


Finding Solutions.

by giantessmess



Category: Hex (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22980694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giantessmess/pseuds/giantessmess
Summary: Thelma wants Ella
Relationships: Thelma Bates/Ella Dee
Kudos: 2





	Finding Solutions.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in 2006. It is written in second person. Forgive me, it was kind of a thing in 2006 LJ culture and any suffering you have to undergo should be blamed on 2006 me.

There’s something about your arguments that leaves little for interpretation. Ella’s bloody lucky no one will ever see the way you look at her, the way you look together. And if you stopped deliberately misinterpreting the way Ella gazes at you, she’d probably be disappointed that you gave up so easily.

“I thought you were all-powerful,” you tease. “Ella Dee the magnificent – scares the living shit out of monsters, but can’t pleasure a ghost?”

“Leave it out.” She focuses on cleaning each and all of her weapons. Rub rub rub, goes the cloth over metal. “I can’t.”

“But you’re a witch!”

“You know it doesn’t work that way, Thelma.”

“Can’t you just…” you flutter a hand in the air. “Like boom, zap me? I’m sure you could figure out a way to touch me, if you wanted.”

“If I wanted, yes. Probably. Maybe.”

She still isn’t looking at you. That weapon sure is filthy. She takes her time replying, and when she does she makes sure you pick up on her irritation.

“As surprising as it sounds, I have more important things on my mind than your problems getting off.”

Like her boyfriend? Or like that the cute boy she’s supposed to kill?

That thing Ella has with Leon is a joke. First she doesn’t give a shit if the guy gets sacrificed, now she’s ooh-ing and ah-ing over him? Yeah, saving her life might have helped. But either way, love doesn’t make a bit of sense. She’s four hundred years old. Surely she could do better.

“So, you’ve never shagged a girl, then?”

Her hand slips. “Jesus, Thelma.”

“Well? Is that the reason?” You smirk, daring her to look up. “Yes? No?”

Ella rolls her eyes and concentrates on the weapon she’s cleaning.

“So what if I have?”

“Hah! I knew it!”

She twitches her lip, in that superior-older-sister way. “Why is it so important that you prove everyone else is a lesbian?”

“So you are a dyke?”

There’s a faint smile on her lips. “Don’t be stupid.”

You shrug, considering her question. “Well if people around here weren’t so repressed, I wouldn’t have to bother.”

“You’re dead, I hardly think the state of the dating pool should be your primary concern.”

“Well it isn’t. That’s why I was asking if you’d be able to-”

“Leave it.”

“Okay.”

“You drive me mental sometimes,” she mutters. “Honestly.”

You shake your head, and grab a packet of crisps in front of you. “Roxanne’s a total closet dyke,” you munch. “You know that, right?”

She doesn’t look up from her work. “I don’t care, Thelma.”

“And we all know you’re begging for it.”

“Sure, fine,” she barely mutters, her attention elsewhere.

You smirk. “You think about shagging me all day long….”

You watch her face. It doesn’t change.

“Yeah, Thelma.” She focuses on her sword. “Fine.”

“….And at night, you fantasise about pushing my legs apart…licking your lips.”

“Uh-huh…what?” She snaps her eyes up. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Hmmm?” you crunch a handful of crisps. “Just Roxanne.”

“Thelma,” she warns.

You roll your eyes. “Alright. Alright. I’ll stop hassling you. You’re such a bloody party pooper.”

“No,” she snaps. “I’m the practical one.”

“Oh, hardly.”

“Give it a rest, alright?” she waves vaguely towards the door. “Go down to the vending machines or something.”

Your expression doesn’t waver. “You think the thing you have with Leon is practical? Is that right?”

“Oh here we go.” She widens her eyes in annoyance. “What is it this time?”

“What is it this time? For starters, the poor guy’s been dumped in it now, hasn’t he? And how old is he? How old are you?”

“I didn’t hear you complaining when we served him up that tea.” She drops her cleaning rag. “Bitch bitch bitch.” Her tone hardens. “You practically begged me to help him see you.”

You let out a moan. “That was completely different! You were dying.”

She puts her sword down. “Let me get this straight –You’re ok having him help us...”

“Well, someone’s gotta keep your nose clean. Someone’s gotta stop you from shagging Malachi.”

“What?!” She all but squawks. “I can’t believe you just said that!”

“Well, from the look of you when you’re anywhere near him…” you shrug, petulantly.

“I’m not discussing this.” She fumbles for her sword again.

“Fine.” You glare at her, crossing your arms. “Bloody fine.”

After meeting your glare, she lets out an irritated sigh. “So you don’t want me to date him?”

“Malachi?”

“Leon!”

You shrug, and try not to put your foot in it again.

“Thelma?”

“Well,” you shrug, your voice rising. “He’s just this teenage boy, isn’t he?”

“Christ,” she rolls her eyes. “I don’t like where this is headed.”

“Well it’s some age difference, you’ve got to admit that at least?” Ella nods grudgingly, and you’re glad you have a real argument to back you up. “You should be arrested.”

“Thelma, you’re a teenager.”

“Ghost – it doesn’t count,” you say quickly.

“I don’t have time for this.”

“What? Got homework, have you?” you snicker.

“I’m cleaning. You’re interrupting me. You’re always interrupting me.” She mutters the next part. “And I’ve got something due tomorrow.”

You nod, like she’s confirmed your suspicions. “You’re only a pretend teenager, you know.”

“Oh, and you think Leon hasn’t noticed?”

“I’m just saying…”

“This is serious business, Thelma. You should know I’m not entering into anything lightly right now.”

“So you’re dumping Leon?”

She shakes her head at how shifty you are. Her eyes finally fall on you for one appreciative moment.

“I didn’t say that.” She strides across the room and ruffles through her box. “I’m going to kill Malachi, you know. Any day now.”

Your mood immediately drops. “Well, whoopee.”

She looks at you, and you sigh, trying to hide your discomfort.

“Thelma,” she says your name slowly. “Look, you don’t have to disappear, you know.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s doesn’t have to happen.”

“Well, go trot off and kill him then,” you mutter “See if you can find me after. That’ll be a laugh.”

Ella just smiles. She picks up a blade and runs a finger over its point. “I’m sure there are ways around it.”

You look at her steadily, but you just swallow when she walks towards you.

“There are ways around a lot of things,” she continues.

You gape at the blade. “What are you going to do with that?”

“Relax,” she all but whispers. You must be looking less than calm, because she tilts her head. “Thelma, it’s ok.”

“What the bloody hell are you doing?”

She laughs. “Now you’re playing innocent?”

Ella holds the blade towards you. You almost feel the tip of it grazing your throat. She quirks her lip.

“Close your eyes, now.”

“Look, I was joking, ok? I was only winding you up.”

“Eyes,” she orders.

You squeeze them shut. “This is idiotic.”

“And no talking.”

“Look, I’ll speak as much as I bloody well wa-”

Your breath falters as you feel something stroking your cheek.

“Ell - Ella?”

“Quiet.”

You swallow a gasp, as you feel it along your jaw, down your throat. Along your chest. It strokes your breast through your clothes, softly. It doesn’t feel anything like Ella’s knife.

You can hear her breath hitch, as she peels your clothes off. It’s like she’s taking away that part of you that isn’t real, replacing it with something that tingles like real flesh.

“Like you said, Thelma. I’m a witch,” she murmurs.

“I…”

“Shhh,” she breathes. You feel it warm on your skin. “You should make sure you actually want the things you beg for.” She’s cupping your breasts now, unmistakably rubbing them with her palms, then fingertips. “You’re not afraid, are you?”

“No.”

“You want me to leave this here?”

“No,” you snap, breathlessly.

“Good.”

“Please…can’t I just…”

“Keep them closed.”

She’s at your trousers now - they slip down, down to your ankles. You resist the urge to open your eyes, so you can see where her face is. But then you feel her breath on your thighs. You shudder out a gasp, and she chuckles and she strokes the soft skin there.

“Stop shaking,” she teases.

“I’m not shaking.”

Your knickers are the next to go, and you silently curse yourself for how much they’re slowing things down. Why did you bother finding a pair?

“You’re frowning,” she says.

“No, I’m not…I was just thinking…”

“Thelma…stop this.” She pushes you onto her bed. You feel her weight on top of you, or you think you do.

Then she’s stroking you down there, touching your breasts, touching your face. Touching you everywhere, so softly and perfectly that it just doesn’t seem possible.

You can hear her let out a gasp, when she makes you come. Or maybe she’s trying not to laugh? You wrench your eyes open, and she’s standing, three feet away from you.

“You slag!”

“I told you there were ways,” she smiles.

“We you just standing there the whole time?” you squawk.

She gives you a steady look. “You don’t need to touch in order to get off.”

You notice her face is flushed, and she’s breathing very quickly.

“Telekinesis?” You walk towards her, legs wobbling beneath you.

She’s enjoying the view of your naked body. “Something like that, yeah.” She looks really pleased with herself, but agitated. Tense.

You walk as close to her as you dare. You almost feel your breasts grazing her clothes. She lets out a heavy breath.

“I thought…”

“What?” she gasps.

“I thought you’d….I dunno…make me human or something.” You realise how stupid it sounds.

Her eyes widen. “What am I, Jesus?”

You’re beginning to feel really exposed, standing there.

“Well, can I kiss you, at least?”

She holds a hand up, and looks you intently. You can feel her fingers on your lips, even if you can’t see them.

“Not quite.” She smiles, indulgently. “Can you feel that?”

You swallow. “Can you?”

She doesn’t answer. So you close your eyes, and wait to feel her touch upon you again. But it doesn’t happen. You open your eyes and stare at her, sceptically.

“You’re just going to stop? I’m bloody naked here!”

She squeezes her eyes shut and opens them again.

“I’ve got to clean these.”

Your eyes narrow at the sight of all her weapons, cluttering the floor.

“Of course,” you mutter. “Can’t have Malachi being killed by a dirty sword, can we?”

“And I’ve got homework.”

You snort. “So bloody important.”

You’re beginning to feel cold – no, you’re feeling downright shitty.

“Well fine,” you snatch your clothes from the ground. “I’m going to get more crisps from the stupid vending machines.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Hope you’re happy.”

“Ecstatic.”

It isn’t lost on you that Ella is watching every second of you getting dressed. She frowns when your bra covers your breasts.

“Have fun,” she murmurs, sounding like she’s somewhere else.

“Yeah, well don’t think I’ll be getting you anything,” you snap.

She narrows her eyes. “I don’t want any sodding crisps.”

You hold her gaze, until she lets out an irritated noise and grabs up her weapons again.

“Yeah,” you watch her clumsily rub the sword clean. “I hope for your sanity’s sake, that you have something cleverer up your sleeve than tele-bloody-kinesis.”

She lets out a long breath.

“Are you ok, Ella?” you search her face.

“Jesus,” she shoots you a look. “You drive me mad sometimes, you know that?”

You snicker at her expression and head for the door. “Well, I should bloody hope so.”

You know that if anyone saw you together, they’d have a hard time imagining you as anything but lovers. And from the look on Ella’s face, that’s all she’ll do when she goes to sleep that night.


End file.
